


A second Chance

by Sinnena



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/M, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Lucio (The arcana) not assuming at all, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:03:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25559281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinnena/pseuds/Sinnena
Summary: The probability of Lucio being exiled is very high. The probability of you following him, too.With a whole lot of consequences.
Relationships: Apprentice & Lucio (The Arcana), Apprentice/Lucio (The Arcana), Lucio (The Arcana)/Original Character(s), Lucio (The Arcana)/Reader
Kudos: 73





	A second Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Because being a parent is not always rosy and may not be love at first sight. I very much imagined Lucio in that position... Being Lucio.  
> I wrote it with a female MC, but the story can just as easily happen with an adopted child. 
> 
> Hope you'll like it, it's my first story in english, so I'm not sure to be O.K with half the typography and the...everything, but I hope you'll don't mind and still enjoy it !
> 
> Cheers !

It was cold, as always in this damn country. Lucio's gaze was lost between the birches and pines of his homeland, terribly familiar and so... distant. Game was scarce, but he still had managed to find two rabbits. One of them hadn't had time to run away, and the other... It would have preferred to be dead. Mercedes was in charge of dragging him out of his burrow with excited growls.

\- That's it, good girl," Lucio encouraged her as she closed her jaws on the creature's fragile neck. "Hey, no! Get off him! Let go!

He forcibly pulled the rabbit out of its mouth, flying hair all over the place. Then, sighing loudly, he tied game to his belt and left the field. At least, what was left of it. The family that tended the land had died years earlier of the plague. As had many.

No, don't think about it. He shook his head, fluttering his greasy hair in front of his eyes. Gods, he would have killed for a good bath, but that, too, was in the past.

Lucio had been exiled from Vesuvia two years earlier. Although Nadia had given the order, it had been more of a consensus. He'd seriously screwed up. The epidemic, the mismanagement of the city... No, even if the people feared and... _respected_ him, it would have gone badly wrong if his few pacts had been revealed. So he left. Well, everyone knew Nadia had the shoulders for the job. She was tough as nails.

He didn't say goodbye to you, no. Not that he didn't try, but the last confrontation with the Devil had left you at death's door, unconscious for days on end. Asra would have killed him if he had tried to set foot in your room. The magician was right, his ice-cold words still echoed in his head in response to the former Count's demands: The young man didn't have to promise that he would do everything he could to get you back on your feet and make you happy. They did not need Lucio for that, because nothing would have happened without him. They just needed him to go far, far away, and that's what he'd done.

Go back South, face what he'd caused.

Epidemics and plague had left their mark all over his wake, while he was still chained by his pact with the pestilence worm. To think that it had taken this time spent with you to make him aware of his actions. What he'd caused. Damn it. It punched him in the face : no more oopsies, no more make-believe. No, he couldn't go back to that when he saw the ghost towns, ravaged by disease and war. So he decided to do the only thing he was good at: fighting.

He had joined troops of soldiers, groups of peasants, all those who were fighting to protect their people from enemy raids and monsters, from the Shrieking Shrike, to the Shining steppe, down to Scourgeland. More than once, he had almost died but he had never looked back, had never accepted any thanks. He had abandoned the ostentatious clothes, returned to the more functional ones of a mercenary. Well, he had kept his battle marks that underlined his protruding cheekbones, his marks of a warrior.

But he had drunk so much that he didn't know what name to give himself : Lucio, Montag, Lorenzo...? It didn't matter. Now all he had left was his golden arm, the only thing he couldn't part with.

And then you appeared. He was passing through another refugee camp when Mercedes and Melchior had suddenly raised their heads, their ears pricked up before sprinting towards the infirmary tent. And there you were, nursing the soldiers. The dogs had almost run you over in the middle of a spell. As you laughed, trying to push back their muzzles and their lickings, he couldn't move. Damn it. He had seriously thought you were dead. He never heard from you again. Even his sickly optimism and his desire to escape from reality had failed to stem this horrible certainty.

But there you were, with your fucking smile and your shining eyes... He hadn't moved, not even when you had approached him and called his name. You had to wait that the tingling of your familiar magic closing that cut on his cheek, like the one you'd erased at the very beginning of your story, to make him out of his astonishment. Damn it, it was you. It _really_ was you. He had almost crushed you in his arms, unable to hold back his tears. You were alive. You were there.

He immediately thought that you had been worried about him, and even though it broke his heart, he thanked you and told you to go back to Vesuvia. After all, you had your life in your little neighbourhood, your shop, not far from Nadia, very close to Asra. But you had shaken your head. You had decided to come here, to see with your own eyes what he had caused, to face reality... and to help him. Your ideas had given him a headache he couldn't bear. It was unthinkable. More than anyone else, you should have run away from him, after all he had caused you.

But from that day on, you stayed. You held his hand, kept showing him the right way. You made him a better man, kept doing it and... most of all, you loved him. Almost as much as he loved you.

Mercedes, Melchior, you and him on the battlefield.

Your magic, their fangs and his sword.

The dream team.

He'd never been so relieved and happy to fight.... Before you got sick. You started vomiting, feeling nauseous, having stomach cramps.

The old fears had come tumbling down. He'd already lost you once to that, never again. He had spent the money he was finally starting to accept so that you could see doctors, even in these increasingly desolate areas. But you already knew what was going on and he just refused to see it.

Their verdict was final: you were pregnant.

Fuck, he was sure he'd been careful. You were careful then how... _Shit_ , that night when you were totally drunk in that rescued village. The landlord had bought you the first round, the baker the second, the blacksmith the third... He was holding liquor moderately, you just a little more.

God, you'd dismantled the bedroom that night, regardless of the consequences. One shot, that's all it took. Bravo, Lucio.

But from the moment he knew, he had carried on as if nothing had happened, after all you were strong. You'd _always_ been strong, he didn't have to be afraid of losing you, right ? But after the seventh month, your magic got weaker and weaker. Another one of his magician's bullshits : something like your powers went into stasis so that you wouldn't compromise the baby's health or you wouldn't burn everything down during labor. But you didn't even have the strength to contact Asra for help, to find out what was happening. And Lucio, well, he... he didn't know what to do.

You took it upon yourself to find this horrible shack barely big enough for the two of you and the dogs. it was half collapsed,but you used what energy you had left to fix it up. He helped you, of course, but it was just a nightmare for him. Just that, it couldn't _really_ happen. Then, the baby was born. Lucio held your hand while the midwife encouraged you until it was over. But he couldn't watch and to your dismay, left the room at the first screams, preferring to wait outside with the dogs.

It was. One. _Fucking_. Nightmare. He kept repeating it over and over again, scratching Melchior's ears with an absent look on his face as the dog barked nervously to get home.

There should have been a doctor, the best one, and servants. You should have silk sheets, be covered in jewels for this day, be happy. You shouldn't have to go through this in the dead of winter, insecure in the midst of all those... those... well. Your retinue should've taken care of the kid, let you rest and him, he... he would've been with you. Only you. He'd never been so bitter about not fighting for his county title.

Instead you were tired, very tired and the child had gotten sick. He cried all the time. You had asked him what he wanted to call him and Lucio had to take a few seconds to remember that it was a boy. The resemblance was too strong and the anguish pierced his guts. His own mother, Morga, had told him over and over again that she should have let him die at birth. Wasn't that the best thing to do? But he never dared to ask you out loud.

So he had kept his mouth shut and gone hunting for you. And the next day too. It had been three days now. Lucio couldn't stand the child's screams and all the excuses to be away from him were to be taken. He wouldn't leave you alone, no ! ... Not really. Melchior stayed to look after you while Mercedes came with him.

Tonight would be a feast, he thought bitterly. Roots, a few remaining tubers from what was left of the surrounding fields and two rabbits. You were going to be happy. _Sure_ you were. The house stood there, leaning against a wood. Lucio shrugged his shoulders, sighed, and gave his best grin before pushing the door. The first thing that hit him was the baby's cries. The second, your face, as you tried desperately to rock him...

He dropped the rabbits on the kitchen table and ran towards you. It seemed as if you hadn't slept for three days. Which was close to being the case : the child had only been quiet for a few hours since birth and each time you were too worried to sleep. Always afraid he'd get sick while you were ruining your health... Urgh, it made _him_ sick. You, who were so beautiful, your eyes seemed dead, red and swollen with fear and lack of sleep.

\- He won't stop crying, " you whispered, your voice tightened before he even asked you what was wrong.

Yes, he had seen that. Melchior seemed powerless, lying all the way down by the fire. Were his impressions, or was the big white dog looking at him with a blaming look ? Lucio opened his mouth, looked for something to say, then closed it again. He shook his head, ran a hand through his silver hair and then turned away from you.

\- I'm going to make some food," he muttered as he took the tubers out of his bag. I'm sure he'll be all right, he just needs something in his stomach...

\- It's an infant, Lucio," you sighed with a desperate laugh. He doesn't eat yet, he just needs milk.

Damn, he forgot that again. The screams were already hitting his brain and Mercedes started barking, turning all around you, pulling the edge of your sleeve. Lucio had no idea you were so weak, until you staggered... He dropped everything and threw himself at you, catching you in the air. As gently as he could, he let himself slide to the ground while you burst into tears. His chest tightened instantly.

\- Oh no, no _no_ ," he whispered in a loop, panicking as the sobs convulsed you and the child's cries intensified. What's wrong with him? Sweetheart, hey, look at me! Just tell me...

\- What's wrong? had you exploded, eyes full of tears. Our son is sick and I don't know what to do, Lucio! I don't know...

Your voice had ended in a heart-rending cry and you had cowered on the little red face in the middle of the blanket. Lucio was petrified, the two of you huddled up against him. You hadn't cried since you'd met. You'd always been the stronger of the two, telling him everything would be okay. This last year, you'd put his life back together again. And now you were falling apart. _Why?_

\- I'm afraid for him, you babbled, as if you could read his mind. He's so fragile and my magic won't come back... what if he dies, Lucio?

He looked at you, gawking, before he held you tighter... Melchior came whining behind your back, sensing your distress. He pressed his soft, warm fur against your body and the warrior wondered if the dog didn't understand the situation better than him.

\- Are you really that scared? he muttered, not believing his ears.

You didn't answer, you just cried, over and over again. Minutes went by, and he didn't know what else to do except stroking your back. The child's cries were still ringing in his ears, but more and more distant, until you turned your eyes to him. It wasn't just your imagination, the child had calmed down. Lucio's golden arm, tightly wrapped around your waist, ran along the blanket and the baby's forehead was pressed against the metal. Usually white, the grooves of his prosthesis produced a strange, moving blue glow. You stood up and hiccupped, before running your fingers over your man's hand.

\- Your arm is cool, it soothes him, " you understand. How do you do that?

\- I haven't the faintest idea," answered Lucio honestly, arching an eyebrow. It's the first time that .... Oh.

You understand at the same time: this arm was built by Salim and Aisha. The magic must have affected it. After all, the furrows were red when he was dying of the Red Plague ...

\- Can you keep him like this while I make some food? you asked as you began to put the child in his arms.

\- What? _No._ Do you want me to hold him?" he exclaimed, moving further and further away from you.

\- Please," you sighed. I really need to do something else and... I'd like to eat something other than your _porridge_ for once.

Lucio was outraged : he was doing what he could, okay? He already understood that you can do something else than roasting food, so you should just be... But he didn't have time to loudly insist that the baby was in his arms. He was light, hot. His head tossed and Lucio quickly put his hand behind his neck to steady him. Damn it, that was a close one.

\- I can't do it," he begged immediately, feeling an icy sweat running down his back. I told you, he's too frail I might...

\- Lucio, do you sigh with an exhausted voice... He's been here for three days and you haven't held him in your arms once.

\- I've... I've...

\- It's our child. Your son.

He felt like the words were stone blocks and they fell right into his stomach. His son. Responsibility. God, _no_. Until now, all he ever had to do was take care of himself. Well, there is you too, but you knew how to live without him. And then... Goddamn it, he fucked up. Once again, the biggest foolishness in his whole life. It must have been all over his face, a mixture of dismay and fear. You'd fallen back to your knees and put a hand over his face, stroking his raspy cheeks covered with a three-day beard.

\- Hey, beloved, you muttered... we're together, we're gonna be okay, all right?

He still didn't answer, once again caught up with reality. He didn't want to be responsible for the life in his arms. He was scared, so scared...

\- But he's so fragile. He's already sick, what's...

\- He's a baby, Lucio, you retorted, knowing his thoughts and his past too well. It's normal that he's defenseless. That's why we're here, to protect him. That's why we'll be strong.

There was a long silence during which the warrior tried to understand the idea. He'd never thought of it that way before. That it might be natural to be so helpless. Hell, he'd never thought of it at all.

\- But do you think he'll like me? he heard himself ask in anguish, his silver eyes riveted in yours, like a sailor clinging to a buoy.

Your eyes widened as he finally found a reason for all his thoughts that had been going round and round in his head for several months. No one had ever loved him until you came into his world. He'd always screwed everything up, ruined everything. He'd broken so many people's lives, entire cities... _Your_ previous life. He was a walking fucking menace and you both knew it. He'd never done anything right and the only good thing that ever happened to him... was _you_. And now you were disheveled, tired, sick. Your complexion was pale. He was afraid you would die because of the child, because of him. He wasn't cut out to that. He wasn't cut out to be a father.

You knew that, didn't you? But instead, you took his hand in yours and a tired smile stretched your face. There, he found some of the young apprentice who had always stood by his without fail. Your fingers gently caressed his palm, it soothed him and you knew it.

\- It all depends on you, Lucio," you answered softly. But if you want him to love you, you'll have to love him.

Lucio blinked, but before he could answer anything, you stood up. You couldn't hide any longer how hurt you were by his behavior and he was about to get up, to hug you when Melchior, still beside the child, started to growl. Lucio turned a mortified look at his biggest dog : Melchior had never dared to growl at him. But there was something in his rubicond look that forced the warrior to sit back down on the floor, both arms around the pack of blankets. You were already getting busy, Mercedes in your legs... and he was there, doing nothing. There was a noise, a kind of chirping. Lucio looked at the little face sticking out of the blankets... Two little blue eyes looked at him. Well, tried to look at him, clearly not an easy things, but their glow intensified by the blue one of his arm's furrows. The infant didn't have much hair, but at least he was a little less red.

\- Is it normal for him to have blue eyes? finally ask Lucio, a hint of anxiety in his voice. Well, I mean,.. We don't have blue eyes. Neither do my parents and you...

  
\- He's a baby, they all have light hair and eyes, you sigh, with a smile on the corner of tour lips.They'll probably get darker in no time.

Lucio glanced at you, then finally turned to the child. Apprehensively, he moved his trembling fingers closer and touched the infant's cheek. The baby's eyes closed and he frowned his absence of eyebrows. _Damn it_ , thought Lucio in a panic. He was going to scream, wasn't he? He was probably going to scream.

But no. Instead he moved, making Lucio's back soaking in sweat before a very, very tiny palm came out and grabbed his pinkie. Melchior pricked up his ears and whined when he heard his master's sniffles, and you heard the dog's whining. But you finished dicing the tubers, without turning around. You knew that he wouldn't liked you to see him with his defense down. Eyes glued to the tiny hand, something gave way in Lucio. The fears were still there, but there was... something else. It was a warm, comforting thought. A hope he had never really searching for because he didn't think he deserved it : a second chance to be loved.

Lucio was crying his eyes out, ruining his warrior's marks while hugging his son a little closer to him. _His_ son.


End file.
